In the Past
by Lara1221
Summary: The journey of Lucius and Narcissa through love and grief, backwards.


**Disclaimer:** These characters and their world are not of my creation. Neither is that clipart on the cover I found on google.

 **For Lamia** (Lamia of the Dark), for GGE2015. I know I'm a canonhead, but I hope I did you proud!

 **A/N:** **(don't need to read but its just my thought process if you're interested; if not, skip and enjoy!)** I actually have no idea where this came from other than the fact that Xanda picked Lucius for this round of QL and I _despise_ him so I knew I wanted to balance him out with a character I _love_ : Narcissa. I've always seen their relationship this way - filled with love and then not, and a war waging within Narcissa whether the love, which she retained far more than Lucius, was worth her continual grief. I haven't written in this style (a broken timeline) before, but I've seen it done many times, so credit for that goes to whoever came up with it first :P Also, I wrote this for the no-names competition, where character names can't be mentioned, and it was nothing like I originally managed but I think it worked well. I hope the flowy style and POV switch comes across well. Finally, enjoy! Please let me know what you thought. **Written for:**

 **QLFC finals rnd 1: wasps' beater 2:** chosen character - Lucius Malfoy, _my_ chosen character - Narcissa; optional prompts - 8. (word) embrace, 10. 1000 words (this does _not_ include the number headers, I can send the doc to a judge if he has questions) **; hogwarts comp: yr 5:** DADA (write about a known death eater); prompts - song: what i've done / emotion: fear / opening sentence: Her hands...needed to escape **; you picked me comp:** lyric: 'you got me' **; open cat 5:** jen's fav pairing **; week musical comp: wonderful:** torn between right and wrong **; competition that must not be named challenge:** no names mentioned **;**

* * *

 _In this farewell_  
 _There's no blood, there's no alibi_  
 _'Cause I've drawn regret_  
 _From the truth of a thousand lies_

 _I'll face myself to cross out what I've become_  
 _Erase myself_  
 _And let go of what I've done_

What I've Done, Linkin Park

* * *

In the Past

o

 _v._

His hands wrapped around the iron bars as his eyes trailed the sun out the window, and he thought to himself: _I need to escape_.

The prisoner held onto that sunlight: the only taste he still received of the outside world. The cell was cold and shrouded in horrors of his past. The Dementors haunted his visions in the day and his dreams in the night.

Every moment was a living nightmare.

But for just a short amount of time he could see the world, stained with blood he had put there, but there was nothing he could do about that now. He could only appreciate the light of day, and pray that wherever _she_ was in it, she was okay.

He would pray for her forgiveness, but he knew he did not deserve it.

She hadn't deserved it. When her father accepted his offer of marriage, she had been dealt his burden – everything that came with being the wife of the henchman of the Dark Lord.

She did not write or visit, nor did their son. He could only hope that the curse she had of loving him had faded to nothing.

o

 _iv._

She walked swiftly with the guard, ignoring the Dementors' presence and the fears that encompassed her. She could not allow them to take up a stronghold in her mind, which drifted briefly to her son, who all but refused communication with his parents. She had only her husband on her mind.

The route was familiar now; she made it every other day at the least. She could not allow the man she loved to go without her comfort, despite his mistakes.

Their fall from grace had been difficult. The Dark Lord had put his faith in them, and they had failed horribly. It was a hard burden, being so trusted and then so lost, but she still had her family.

Finally, she reached the cell. "Love." Her husband turned and rushed to her, holding her hands through the rails. He was grasping for hope with insanity in his eyes.

"Our Lord! He is going to take us all away. Our child, you…I cannot live without you."

A tear fell. "Please, relocate the Dementors, just for my visits," she begged the guard, who shook his head firmly.

"Prisoners pay for their crimes."

 _My husband is not a criminal; he has done no wrong!_ She wanted to scream, and cry, and let out all her emotions in one whirlwind of a _lie_. They were murderers.

But he did not deserve this. He had given so much love, raised their son properly. _So what_ if Mudbloods paid the price? He was a good man.

She pressed her forehead to his. "I love you so much."

(In a prison she could very well end up in because of him, she regretted the words the second they left her lips.)

o

 _iii._

He was holding the diary in front of her, not believing her thoughts on the matter. This was a task specifically given to him; he had been entrusted by the Dark Lord himself. It was an incredible opportunity to take revenge on that Muggle-loving fool of a Headmaster and the family of flaming red hair who treated him like a god, as well as cleanse the school of Mudbloods. It was what they _both_ had wanted.

"Our _son_ goes to that school!"

"So it would be all the better if he went with those of pure blood! We can throw the Headmaster out, and possibly the gamekeeper too, and take advantage of that traitorous family. This is the perfect opportunity!"

"All of this would be well and good if it didn't involve unleashing a killer beast into the halls. So much could go wrong! So much opportunity for failure. Think, please! What are the _chances_ that ridiculous girl is going to be taken control of, and what are the chances that she can actually be controlled? A giant, bloodthirsty monster will be on the loose, and anyone could be in danger! Anyone of our allies, anyone of pure blood, and our own son!"

"There will be no arguing. It is done."

(It was the first time she wished she hadn't fallen so hard.)

o

 _ii._

She had never looked more beautiful than she did walking down that aisle, and he was so grateful that it was he who got to choose her, the most brilliant witch in the world.

Being chosen by the Dark Lord was an achievement, and helping to eradicate those not pure was an honor, but he hoped nothing would ever compare to that stretch of their wedding, when she glowed at the idea of accepting him as her husband.

He had never been more thankful.

"I love you," he said when she reached him.

"I love you more," she said softly.

 _She was so wrong._

(But over a decade from then, she wasn't.)

His mind was in a blur during the ceremony; he could only reach for the light at the end of the tunnel.

"You may now kiss the bride."

He caught her in a kiss and they passionately embraced, feeling nothing but pure joy.

(She couldn't wait for the rest of her life.)

o

 _i._

She was in the corner of the room by the candlelight, and he had never seen anyone so wonderful. She was a talented, gorgeous witch of pure blood and noble heart. She could fight with him, laugh with him; she made him feel incredible, and he loved it more than anything.

His parents' parties were an absolute bore, but every time she was here, they got a little bit better.

His feet were moving before his head was.

"Would you like to dance?"

Her smile was dazzling.

"I'd love to."

(She was done for.)

o

 _vii._

A thousand miles away, a woman looked out her window into the sunlight and cursed herself, as she had every day since the war ended, for loving a prisoner of Azkaban who had given her so much at an incredible price.

* * *

 _You got me. -_ A Fire Frenzy


End file.
